Unqualified
by Sadistic Writer of FanFiction
Summary: Spencer keeps failing his firearms qualification tests. The facilitating agent is constantly bullying him, and Hotch is getting suspicious. This work deals with bullying, homophobic slurs, and non-consensual touching. Please read at your own discretion.


Spencer Reid failed his firearms qualification test seven times. It took him over fourteen weeks to finally pass. Each set of two weeks between tests, he spent with his unit chief. Aaron Hotchner, at the gun range. Hotch couldn't for the life of him understand _why_ Spencer kept failing. When he practiced with him after his second failure, helping the younger man with stance, breathing, and aim, within a week of dedication and hard work, Spencer's results were near perfect. So _why_ was he failing the tests? Was it anxiety? Was he psyching himself out? Perhaps the agent that runs the testing made him nervous? Whatever the reason, Aaron refused to let the genius fail for an eighth time.

The first time Spencer failed, it was purely because he didn't know what he was doing. Agent Samuel Altman, who ran the testing, came up to the young man after his testing, and firmly grabbed Reid's wrist. Spencer, who avoided any kind of physical contact, flinched and attempted to wrench his arm away from the older man.

"What the hell was that? How the fuck are you part of the FBI? Who was the dumbass who thought bringing a child here, and giving… it… a gun, was a good idea?"

The grip on Spencer's wrist tightened, and he supressed a whimper. He refused to make eye contact with the other agent, and mumbled a response.

"What was that? Huh? Speak up kid. I wanna know what you just said to me."

"I said that I didn't know. Sir."

"Pathetic." Agent Altman spat. "Do yourself a favour kid, and quit while you're ahead. You'll never pass the qualification. You'll always be a disappointment."

Spencer hung his head in shame. He didn't tell anybody what had transpired.

The second time went even worse. Reid was nervous, and it showed.

"You're back. Try not to fuck up so badly this time."

Reid nodded in response, before assuming his shooting position. He couldn't stop his thin hands from shaking, causing him to miss the target all together, for every single shot he took.

Agent Altman huffed in annoyance, before forcibly grabbing both of Spencer's upper arms in a bruising grip. The older man dug his nails into the fabric of spencer's long sleeve shirt. Reid froze, eyes screwed shut in apprehension for the verbal beating he undoubtably would take momentarily.

"How is it possible to be _that_ bad at shooting? I've seen children shoot better than that. Listen girly, the next time I see you, you best have your shit together."

"I'm not a girl." Reid whispered, so quietly that even the young man himself could barely hear the words he'd spoken.

Samuel tightened his grip on Spencer's arms, causing the young male to gasp in pain.

"Suck it up pussy. Now get out of my sight."

Three's a charm, right? Unfortunately for Spencer, this was not the case. After two weeks of working on 'following through' and other techniques with Hotch, Reid figured he was finally ready to face his qualification.

"You've got this. I believe in you. Just remember to follow through, keep your breathing steady, and remember your posture. You're golden kid. You. Got. This." Aaron told his subordinate, trying to instill some confidence into the anxious man in front of him.

Usually, Hotch would've put his hands on the agent's shoulders to help ground them, but knowing Spencer's aversion to touch, he resisted the impulse, and settled for direct eye contact.

Spencer swallowed thickly, nodding in response, He nervously tapped his fingers against his thigh. With a final glance and a nod to his superior, Reid turned and headed down to the shooting range.

"Back again, twink?" Agent Altman groused.

Reid simply nodded, trying (without much success) to block out the older man's hostility towards him. He put the ear protection on, picked up the sleek gun, aimed… and missed. Feelings of self-doubt and disappointment flooded over the young agent.

The rest of the session wasn't much better. Spencer managed to hit the target a grand total of three times. Out of thirty.

When Hotch saw the dejected man walk to his desk in the bullpen, he instantly knew he'd failed. _Again._

"Reid."

The aforementioned man wearily looked up, and Hotch sucked in a horrified breath upon seeing Spencer's split lip. Frowning, he motioned for the man to follow him to his office, turning and striding away, without looking back. As he knew he would, Spencer followed like a kicked puppy.

"What the hell happened?"

Spencer stiffened at the harsh tone, and looked everywhere _but _at Hotch.

"I tripped on my way back." He whispered, voice slightly shaky.

"That's not true." Aaron pushed. "What. Happened?"

"Nothing."

"Reid."

"Look, Hotch, it's been a long day, I just want some coffee and to not think about the stupid test."

Hotch hummed and nodded in understanding.

"Fine. Shooting range, tomorrow. Five PM."

Spencer nodded, before turning and nearly running out of the suffocating office. He didn't want to train. He dreaded the testing that would inevitably happen again in two weeks. He never wanted to see agent Altman again, but nevertheless, he needed to pass the qualification. They were going to keep his gun away from him forever.

The next day, at five PM sharp, Hotch and Reid met up as agreed.

"Let me see you go through the set up of the qualification." Demanded Aaron.

Spencer jerked a nod, before prepping and shooting. With only Aaron there, nobody yelling, no real pressure, no one touching him, he managed a near perfect score. He hit the target in the critical hit spots twenty-six times. Aaron stared at him, thoroughly impressed. If the kid could do so well now, why couldn't he preform like this during the test?

"Reid… that was great! I honestly don't have anything to critique."

Spencer ducked his head, a slight blush dusting his cheeks, and a small grin graced his lips.

"Thanks Hotch." He muttered.

"Reid, what's got you so freaked out during the real thing?"

"I don't know." Spencer licked his lips, nervously, while taking a great interest in the floor.

"Reid. Spencer. What's going on? You can trust me."

Spencer reeled slightly at hearing his first name being used by _Hotch_ of all people. He fidgeted and kept staring at the ground. He _couldn't_ tell his boss what was going on. He'll think he's weak.

"I just… get really anxious. Then I mess up."

Hotch studied Spencer, fixing him with a scrutinizing stare, before slowly nodding.

"If you say so." Aaron replied, unconvinced, but knew not to push the younger man. "Let's run it again."

The fourth failure was pretty bad, and that's saying something. Reid walked in, and Samuel immediately scowled at him.

"Look twerp, I'm fuckin' tired of seeing your ugly face every two weeks. Don't fuck this up."

As Reid was setting himself up, Altman stood behind him, rather than beside him.

"Your stance is wrong."

Spencer frowned at that. He was _sure_ it was how Hotch had showed him. The older agent strutted up to Reid, standing so close that the young man could feel his breath on the back of his neck. Spencer unsuccessfully suppressed a shiver. His breathing sped up when he felt agent Altman's hands on his elbows, and Spencer could've sworn that _something_ touched his backside. After adjusting Spencer's arms, Altman backed off, assuming his regular spectating position.

The interaction threw Spencer off his game, and he managed to only hit the outline of a human target once, right where the crotch would be.

"Jesus kid. Why do you even bother trying?" Spat Altman.

Reid sighed, before putting everything away, and walking out, as Samuel rattled off insults to his retreating back.

Spencer didn't even bother going back to the bullpen. He simply went home, knowing that this would come back and bite him in the ass tomorrow when he encounters the wrath of Aaron Hotchner.

As he'd predicted, Hotch was less than impressed with Spencer's behavior. Clearly, Reid failed again. Which frankly baffled Aaron.

Every day after work, the two spent hours preparing Spencer for his next qualification test.

"Why do you even want to do this anyways? You're a Profiler, you're not required to carry a gun."

"Yeah, well, you're a profiler and you carry two guns. JJ is a media liaison and she carries a gun. I want to be able to fend for myself, and be able to have the team's back out in the field. I'm not some baby that needs the team worrying about him. Besides, without my holster, I look like a teacher's assistant."

Hotch scoffed.

"Whatever you say kid. If this is what you really want, we'll work on it until you pass."

Spencer smiled his thanks, before straightening out and shooting five rounds, all hitting the target in the head. Aaron smirked, proudly.

Failures five and six went almost exactly as the previous attempts did: not well. The only difference, was that agent Altman's insults were more homophobic slurs than about his shooting, and Reid could feel his eyes raking up and down his body, as if he was a hunk of meat, ready to be butchered. Spencer was growing more and more dejected and frustrated. His failures became a taboo topic in the office, nobody dared to comment on it.

The seventh, by far was the worst. After doing terribly for the first fifteen rounds, agent Altman stopped Spencer, coming up to him and pressing himself against Reid's back, molding to the young man's body. Reid stiffened. This was sexual harassment in the workplace. But this wasn't supposed to happen in the FBI. Not to Spencer.

"Listen fag, you're gonna stand there, and take this like a man. You owe me for all that I've put up with." Hissed Samuel.

Spencer was frozen. Panicked. He felt hands on his thighs, trailing their way between his legs, before cupping his privates. Tears poured down Reid's face. He thought he was going to throw up. There was an erection pressed up against his bottom. Spencer very well knew where this situation could go. His breathing hitches, and Spencer choked on his sobs. He couldn't even verbalize his objections.

Unbeknownst to both males, Hotch had decided to drop by, to try and figure out why Spencer kept failing the tests. He figured if he could figure that out, he could help the young man. He did not, however, expect to walk in on the facilitating agent fondling an unresponsive Spencer.

"Get your hands off of him." Hotch growled.

Agent Altman backed off, hands up in a placating manner.

"Listen Hotchner, I was just helping the kid with his stance."

Spencer held in a whimper, arms wrapped tightly around his midsection, effectively giving himself a hug. He stared straight ahead, at the untouched target.

"By groping him? I'm not blind Altman. I saw what you did to my agent."

"It wasn't like he said no." Scoffed Samuel.

"I sure as hell didn't say yes." Spat Spencer, breaking out of his nightmarish reverie. He dashed out of the room, tears still steadily streaming down his face.

"This isn't over." Threatened Aaron.

Hotch quickly caught up with Spencer in the hallway. Ensuring there was adequate space between the two, they silently walked to Hotch's office.

"That's why you keep failing." Stated Aaron.

"It's never been this bad before. Usually he just yells or hits me. He's never… _touched_ me like that."

"Spencer, why didn't you come to me?"

"I thought I could handle it. I didn't want you to think I'm weak. If I could just pass, I wouldn't have to deal with him anymore." Explained Reid, voice filled with shame.

"Spencer." Hotch sighed. "You were being bullied and assaulted. You know you shouldn't keep quiet about something so serious. Telling someone doesn't make you weak. We all care about you. We worry. We could've helped you."

"I'm sorry."

Spencer looked away, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. Hotch's grim expression softened at the sight of the broken man in front of him.

"You know that none of this is your fault, right?"

Spencer didn't reply. His demeaner screamed self-deprecation.

"It's not. It's his fault. You didn't deserve to go through this. I wish I'd caught this sooner. I'm going to make sure that bastard never gets near you again."

Reid continued to stand there in silence, arms wrapped protectively around himself, eyes glued to the floor.

"It's been a tough day. Why don't you head home early. I'll call if there's a case."

Spencer would typically vehemently fight against going home, but at this point, he was exhausted and just wanted to go to the safety of his home. He gave a slight nod, before heading for the door, he stops at the threshold, and finally speaks to Aaron. Without turning around, he whispers "thank you" to his boss. He continued on his way out.

Two weeks later, Aaron Hotchner facilitated Spencer Reid's firearms qualification, which he passed with flying colours. It took the young man three and a half months to pass, but in the end, he was pretty damn proud of himself.


End file.
